Where Steel and Water Did Collide
by BaleighTheMadQueen
Summary: Diana is bright, driven, and an aspiring auror. She frequently butts heads with her blood purist mother, who only wants "what's best." Her crush doesn't know she exists, and her little sister has been brain-washed. Experience the story of Hogwarts in 1943, a time embroiled in conflict, xenophobia, and unexpected love. Tom Riddle Jr./OC; seventh year; more than a love story.


**A/N: The author desperately wanted to name this something cliché like** _ **Slithered Right Into Your Heart**_ **or** _ **Something Magic**_ **, but alas… I wanted people to actually click on this story, instead of cringing the second they saw its name before quickly scrolling past it. Anyway, this is my first crack at a Harry Potter fic in a VERY long time. As in, five years probably. I actually have a half-baked plan for a series. The stories wouldn't be connected in any way other than being primarily romantic stories set in the Harry Potter universe.**

 **That aside, let me know what you think of this first chapter, let me know if you think I should continue. I really like Diana's characters, and I spent more time (two weeks) designing her character than I've spent writing this first installment (two hours). This chapter is in third person, but that's mostly for you guys to get a feel for the character. The rest will probably be in first person from Diana's point of view, and I'll make sure to indicate that at the beginning of each chapter.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

 **-Bales**

 _Where Steel and Water Collide, Chapter I_

 _Third Person P.O.V._

She sat at her usual table at the Three Broomsticks, the booth in the back left hand corner. It was smaller than the others, and therefore cozier. She had a stack of three books piled in front of her, and her quill leapt across the page hungrily. Her best friend, Blanche Mayfield, sat across from her with a muggle magazine called _The New Yorker_ perched upon her knees, which were drawn up in a very unladylike fashion as her back rested comfortably against the wall.

Diana Tierney sat at her usual table at the Three Broomsticks furiously scribbled away at her Charms essay, which was due the upcoming Monday. It was rare that Diana managed to fully understand a Charms lesson, let alone essay prompt, the first time she comes into contact with the material. This time she was lucky. She had always specialized in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions, finding the material to be a bit more exciting Charms and Herbology. Not that the latter two subjects were boring…

She was what some teachers preferred to call _brilliant_. She always had been, even during her early childhood when her instructors were snooty French tutors who couldn't stand her snarky attitude. The problem with growing up brilliant is that it's hard to come to terms with the subjects that happen to show off your faults. She didn't hate Charms and Herbology—in fact, compared to the majority of students, Diana was fairly well off in the subjects. She hated that she had to try to do well. When one has to try to do well in a subject, little room is left for outside research.

For instance, her knack for DADA has allowed her to conduct her own research projects into the origins of forbidden spells while her classmates were busy finishing the latest assignment. Her proficiency in Transfiguration led her to quietly pursue the idea of becoming an Animagus. She has read everything there is to read on the subject, but her anxiety over getting caught is overwhelming her rebellious nature. She knows for a fact that she would be able to pull it off, though.

With a victorious swoosh, the Charms essay was done and quickly pushed aside, only to be replaced by Diana's forehead on the worn wood of the old table. A sigh pushed past her lips and rebounded off of the surface and back into her face. Butterbeer didn't smell as good coming out as it tasted going down, that's for sure.

"Ah, you've finished!" Blanche's magazine slammed, quite noiselessly, down onto the table in her excitement. "Now we can actually experience our Hogsmeade trip instead of wasting away our days in this God forsaken bar."

Diana responded tiredly, face still pressed into the dark mahogany surface, "In Britain, we call them taverns or pubs. You Americans with your bars, and your speakeasies, and your moonshine."

"I'll have you know that prohibition was repealed in the 1930s."

"You still called this wonderful place a _bar_ ," Diana was now facing Blanche with a serious expression, "The Three Broomsticks serves food."

"Bars serve food!"

"The Three Broomsticks allows minors."

"Pssh, so will bars."

"Yanks."

"Brits."

Their staring contest ended when Blanche, as always, couldn't control her laughter. Diana cracked a large smile and began packing her satchel, hoping to get to the candy shop before all of the good chocolate was gone.

The two left the _pub_ in a hurry, both looking forward to stocking up on sweets before the bitter cold hit their small corner of the world and they wouldn't want to venture out on Hogsmeade weekends anymore. When they finally reached the shop, they were relieved to find their favorite candies still in stock.

"I sincerely hope that you won't judge me for the sheer amount of chocolate I'm going to buy today," said Diana wistfully as she glanced down at her nearly-full shopping basket.

"I won't judge you as long as you don't give me that disapproving look that you're so good at when you see the 20 pounds' worth of jelly beans that I'm stuffing into this basket right now," Diana giggled at her friend's admission, picturing such a tiny girl trying to carry the store's entire collection of jelly beans.

"You know, my dear Blanche, in Britain we use kilograms."

"You know, my dear Diana, I don't give a damn."

A soft gasp emanated from the direction of the payment counter and both girls let out peals of laughter. They met at the cashier and paid quickly before strolling out the door and towards their castle-turned-school. It was early October and a biting chill was already in the air, but it was nothing to the two seasoned seventh years who wore only light jackets and scarves. Their walk was accompanied by a few other late-returning groups, but everyone mostly kept to themselves. The two got mysteriously quiet as they passed a group of seventh year Ravenclaws, before bursting into laughter the second they were (presumably) out of earshot. They carried on giggling, arm-in-arm, until they passed the threshold into the warm embrace of their second-home.

"Is Neal trying out for the team this year?" Blanche inquired as she unwrapped the scarf from around her neck. The school was a sauna compared to the outside world.

"He's planning on it." Diana was unbuttoning her jacket, cold fingers numbly working their way through the task, "It should be a lot easier than last year, now that half the team graduated. Dad is very excited about the prospect of having a son on the team."

"Well, good for Neal." A mischievous smile appeared on Blanche's face as she considered something quietly. The girls had seated themselves in the Great Hall and were ready for what was sure to be a delicious feast.

"You should let him know that Zelda has always had a thing for athletes."

Diana choked slightly on her pumpkin juice as she tried to contain her laughter. She had almost forgotten about her brother's monstrous crush on her best friend's sister. She wiped at her mouth with a cloth napkin and cleared her throat.

"For some reason, I don't believe that will do anything to quell his nerves. In fact, I believe that a revelation like that would only serve to make the poor boy even more nervous. He already has the pride and honor of our," at this point, Diana adopted a rather shrill impression of her mother, "old and noble, might I remind you _pureblooded_ , family name."

Diana cleared her throat again and smiled somewhat teasingly, turning to look at her little brother who was telling his fifth year friends what looked to be a rather exciting and rousing story, which was surely an exaggerated retelling of his adventure in the Black Forest the summer before.

"I doubt he could handle that kind of added stress."

Suddenly, food appeared upon the long, lovingly battered table and the first years gasped as if the same thing hadn't been happening every night for the last month. Right before Diana stood a wonderful looking glazed ham, and next to it a fluffy pile of mashed potatoes that she dug into immediately. Oh, if her ever-so prim and proper mother could see her now. What her mother doesn't understand is that Diana's House, Slytherin, consists mostly of young boys who feel particularly entitled to the obscene amounts of food that the house elves prepare every morning, noon, and evening. Essentially, Diana is just trying to survive, and sometimes survival requires one to abandon manners for a moment.

After making a mountain of food that would put even the American Mount. Denali to shame, Diana glanced down the table at the first years, easily spotting her sister Evelyn. Young, bright, ambitious, and completely brain-washed Evelyn. The cute little eleven-year-old girl who believes everything that Gloria Tierney, her mother, says and ignores everything that Diana says. The littlest of the Tierney kids, and the one that the elder Tierney children can't help but worry about.

There's no question that Evelyn can take care of herself. When Evelyn was six, the little neighbor boy pulled her pigtails and stomped on her favorite doll. In return, Evelyn launched a full-fledged attack on the boy's yard toys. The girl is a gifted strategist at a very young age. No, the elder Tierney children aren't worried for Evelyn's safety. They're worried about her greed for power, and her desire to impress her mother in every way. She's going to grow into an incredibly talented young woman, and Diana and her brothers would be proud if only she were on their side. Granted, Evelyn isn't even aware that her siblings _aren't_ on her side, but if she did…

Diana doesn't like to think about the consequences.

Now, she isn't afraid of her younger sister, but she is afraid of the wrath of her mother, who isn't afraid to squeeze a little too hard or let go with a little too much force when she isn't getting her way with her children. Gloria Tierney is a force to be reckoned with, who, when asked, would say that she only wants what's best for her children. What she doesn't mention is that "what's best" can only be defined by her dogmatic wishes.

Shaking out of her reverie, Diana turned back to her food and dug in, and soon her eyes were closed in both satiation and gratitude. The dinner passed rather quietly. The girls were the type of friends who could spend hours together reading in a small room without exchanging a single word. They had been nearly inseparable since their first Potions class during their fourth year. Blanche was a new student who'd moved over from the Colonies, and Diana wasn't really close to anyone in her House other than Neal, and he very well wasn't attending Potions with the fourth years. Anyway, Blanche was late to class because it was her first day and Hogwarts is a practically insurmountable maze for anyone who hasn't had a few weeks to get the lay of the land. Diana happened to be sitting next to an open seat. One thing led to another, and the girls haven't even considered parting since.

A minor problem arose when Diana realized that her new friend was a half-blood. She, personally, didn't take issue with that fact, but she knew her mother would. There was a week near the beginning of their friendship when Diana became slightly stand offish, but Blanche is an American, and therefore not one to just sit around and wait for an explanation. Diana was cornered after their Transfiguration class and persuaded into "spilling the beans." In the end, they laughed it off.

Blanche was used to blood politics, and wasn't afraid of Gloria Tierney.

Diana was just glad her friend understood that _she_ , Diana, wasn't a blood purist.

Soon, the food trays, bowls, and plates magically disappeared from the table just the way they came. Students stood, slowly so as not to jostle the still-settling food in their stomachs, and trickled out of the Great Hall. Diana could feel her eyes drooping rather sleepily, and she was glad that she'd already gotten all of her homework out of the way. Her hands were placed on top of Blanche's shoulders as she guided her smaller friend through the masses of students. Typically, Blanche would be able to get along just fine, but she'd pulled out her copy of _The New Yorker_ again and was engrossed in a long feature piece on something or another.

Finally, the Slytherins made it to their portrait, and Tom Riddle's voice pierced above the quiet murmurings of the crowd as he announced the password, "Grindylow."

It took no time at all for Diana to fall asleep that night, lulled by the serene green tint of the dormitory and the gossipy whispers of the other girls.


End file.
